


The Visit

by Tabata



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9616133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabata/pseuds/Tabata
Summary: Shannen and Langley are waiting for Mrs. Flowerbloom to send them on Tanit, so they will finally be able to see Celes again; but what happened at the palace and the consequences of it are concerning and cast a dark, long shadow on their visit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work is inspired by the COW-T verse, created for the "Clash of the Writing Titans" challenge by [Lande di Fandom](http://landedifandom.livejournal.com/)'s admin, specifically by the last two installments of the story.

The room outside headmistress Flowerbloom's office seems cut out from another world entirely; with its white tiles floor and its black chairs lined up against the wall, it looks more like a dentist's waiting room than one of the many halls inside the Academy of Magic on Titania, a place where you're more likely to die for a curse than have your cavity removed. There's even a potted plant, which looks fairly well for something not made completely out of plastic. And Langley shouldn't be able to notice the slightly different hue the green of the leaves fade into around the stems. It's never a good sign when he starts focusing on such tiny details. That's why he starts pacing again.

“Oh, for fuck's sake, stop doing that!” Shannen's voice is stern and cold, like the rest of him. And in five years he hasn't really learned how to be polite with people. Not that he wanted to, anyway. Langley just takes him as he is, mostly ignoring his being annoyed at everything, and acting like Shannen were always doing the opposite of what he's actually doing. He screams at him, for Langley he can't hold the excitement to see him. He curses, those are his words of love. Shannen says no, he must certainly mean yes.

“I'm not doing anything, love,” Langley says with a peaceful smile. Yet, the tension making the lines of his wide mouth a little more rigid than usual is not lost on Shannen.

“Well, you're calling me love for a start,” Shannen makes a face. He's not very big on nicknames. Or anything really. Shannen is a very difficult person. Langley always says that it's a great thing he's so stunningly beautiful.

“I always call you love.”

“And I've spent the past five years telling you I don't like it, but you don't seem to care,” Shannen says, frowning even more. His ice-blue eyes turning a dangerous shade darker. “I don't even know why I keep bothering, you will do what you want anyway.”

Langley's smile doesn't vanish. If anything, it becomes warmer. “It's so nice that you know me so well,” he says, walking another complete circle around the room. Shannen can swear he can see the ruts Langley dug on the floor with the heels of his boots. “Stop pacing!”

Langley stops, but he doesn't seem to acknowledge the fact that it's been Shannen's order. Instead, he starts looking at the only painting in the room: a hideous three-headed dog licking milk from a bowl like an house kitten. “What do you think possessed the painter to paint this monstrosity?” He asks as he waves his long fingers in front of the canvas, turning the peaceful, if weird, image, into a massacre scene. The massive canine creature is now devouring several snake-like creatures with an unnatural and frankly excessive number of teeth. “Now, that's what I call a respectable example of New Demonic Classicism.”

Shannen is not used to see Langley so fidgety. He's not a steady person, but his drive has never been anxiety. Everything he feels, he usually expresses it through bouts of enthusiasm, excitement or lust. He's loud, completely out of control for half the time and wildly inappropriate for the other half. This meek, tensed creature trying to hold himself back is not him, and Shannen doesn't like it.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, eventually. 

“I'm fine,” Langley answers, without turning around. He's still pretending to look at the painting he changed.

“That's not what I asked.”

Langley sighs, but he takes his time before turning around because, when he faces Shannen, he wants to be smiling. “I am,” he admits, finally looking at him. Shannen is curled up on one of the chairs, being his usual ball of rage, and he looks way younger than what he is. Langley feels a surge of love for him so strong that he forgets all the other unpleasant feelings for a moment. “But we have other problems.”

Shannen moves and he seems to unfurl, growing taller as his feet touch the ground. He's already taking off his hoodie. “That is why we don't need another one.”

Langley doesn't have to feed as much as a real vampire does; for him the need for blood is just a nuisance, something like a temporary lack of a certain vitamin. He can go on a long time before turning really bad, still he needs to feed at some point. Since Celes has been unavailable for the past few months and he forbade him to feed on someone who's not them, the responsibility of donating blood to him has fallen on Shannen, who took it fairly well for one who claims to hate the process.

He and Langley are used to see each other on a regular basis, but in the midst of what happened, there wasn't time to take care of things like that. There wasn't time to do anything, really. After the bombing, Langley rushed back to Titania, where Shannen already was, and they have been dragged around – from bad news to worse – since then. This is actually the first time they find themselves alone.

“Not now,” Langley shakes his head. “We can put it off a little longer.”

Shannen doesn't insist. He trusts Langley's judgment on this. Besides, he knows it's an intimate gesture, and it would be extremely awkward to do it in public after months of it being part of their private routine. “Come here,” he says.

Langley sits down and leans against him, finally exhaling a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Shannen grabs him by his neck and kisses him. It's brief and rough, extremely practical, but so Shannen's that is very comforting. “You better put yourself together before we get there,” Shannen says. “I'm gonna need you to be you. For him.”

Langley knows that Shannen is right. After what happened to his mother and his home, Celes must be devastated. The last thing he needs is to worry for them too. He nods, but he doesn't move away. In fact, he settles himself more comfortably against his boyfriend's shoulder, which prompts Shannen to sigh. He should have known better than to think that Langley would move away after the pep talk. If you give him a finger, it is likely that he'll grab your entire arm and drag you inside his bedroom, where he'll proceed to have sex with you until season changes. 

Shannen tries with a distraction. “Did you find anything new about your ancestors?”

Langley's lineage is for the most part a mystery. He grew up in Aimatopolis – which is in itself the trademark of a complicated family – and he has no idea who is mother was. His father, whom he mentions from time to time but never by his name, has never been very clear on the point. The only thing he knows about himself is that his vampire blood can be traced back to a certain Miguel, who was the head of a clan of vampires that roamed the city a few centuries ago. So, now Langley spends half his time on Titania as a part-time teacher – a job only a lunatic like Flowerbloom would have give someone like Langley – and the other half on his native land, trying to find out something about himself.

Langley shrugs. “Uncle Dimitri is being very supportive without being any help at all,” he says with another of his very dramatic sighs. “I don't even know how that's possible.”

“I still don't know how it's possible that he's a full-fledged, honest-to-God Angel,” Shannen comments. His voice remains steady, but Langley can spot his enthusiasm by the amount of words he's using. The more they are, the more he's excited about something. “Even tho, in his case, _honest-to-God_ might be more of a job description than a figure of speech.”

Langley chuckles. “One of your boyfriends sucks your blood once every two weeks, the other literally grew himself a cock and you can't believe my uncle is an angel?” 

“That's different. You're clearly a worldly creature, like leeches or bats...”

“How could I not fall in love with you when you're so romantic?” Langley wonders, bringing his hand to his heart.

“And magic is common around here, so what Celes did was nothing mystical,” Shannen continues, completely impervious to Langley's sarcasm. “But your uncle lives in Heaven, he has wings and can probably shoot beams from his fiery eyes. That's something.”

“I don't know about the wings, I've never seen them, but he lives in a two-bedrooms apartment downtown, so it's either Heaven is an invite-only club or rents skyrocketed some time around Creation. And the beams are definitely not a thing.”

Shannen makes a face, that is not cool at all. “So, what did he say?”

“He never really says anything,” Langley answers. “I think it's Heaven-policy. He can't never be too clear, because of human free will and stuff. He says he's got some ideas of who my mother was, but he doesn't share them. I'm making progress, tho. I learned how to read his answers. It's like a giant game of hot-warm-cold with him.”

“It's gonna take you ages.”

Langley smirks. “I might even live that long. Who knows?”

“God help us all.”

Langley chuckles, and then a predictable silence falls between them. He would like to ask how things are going with him, but he doesn't. He knows that Shannen needs his time and that he won't say anything if prompted. Any information he's willing to give he will give on his own initiative. In the beginning it was hard to wait for him to talk because Langley doesn't even know the meaning of the word _patience_ and Shannen could refuse to say anything personal for weeks at a time. Then, Langley got better at waiting and Shannen started talking more frequently until the timing of this process worked for both of them.

“My father wrote me again.”

Langley doesn't turn to look at him. He keeps admiring his masterpiece on the wall, not wanting to give the moment he spoke a special quality. “What is it? The third time in two years?”

“Fourth,” Shannen nods.

“Right.”

Shannen's father is a pitiful creature and Langley hates him, which says something since he doesn't really hate anyone. And the feeling is mutual, of course. One time, five years ago, the man invited the three of them over just to humiliate his son and tell him how disappointed he was in him, call Langley a tick and a monstrous vampire bastard, and to tell Celes his mother was a whore and a disgrace, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was a boy. Then, Celes set the house on fire and the fight was over. The three of them, one. His Lordship, zero. Langley and Celes have never gone back there. Langley is not sure Shannen has either.

Yet, the disinheriting His Lordship has threatened Shannen with since forever hasn't happened yet. And this doesn't surprise Langley one bit.

Shannen's father really thinks Manila spat on tradition when she had Celes out of wedlock and without reveling the name of the father for a very long time. And he really despises Celes himself because he dared to be what he wanted to be instead of what the universe had decided for him; but Celes has completed his studies, and despite his firm refusal to be trapped by rules he doesn't approve, like his mother before him, he is about to take his role as a seer, and nobody is going to stop him. He will be the first male seer the polyverse as ever seen. He will be _the next Seer_ and rightfully so, no matter what an old, pompous prick thinks about it. 

And being friends with the Seer is a privilege on Tanit. Any kind of connection to the Seer, really, can bring benefits to any family involved; better so if the connection is of a familial nature. And Shannen is Celes' boyfriend. Their relationship might not be set in stone yet, but it's true and it's recognized in some measure. And Shannen's father can't pass up such juicy chance to bring some sort of prestige to his family name. Being the Seer's father-in-law would be way better than being the cousin's nephew of Manila's brother's husband, and he's probably ready to forget that he's an homophobic, transphobic, racist bastard to get that.

Langley has no proof of that, but he's pretty sure that in those letters Shannen never bothered to open His Lordship is just trying to _reconcile with his only son_ to jump on the winner's wagon. He could bet his fangs on that. 

“Did you open it?”

“Nope,” Shannen shakes his head and puts his legs back up on the chair. This brings him closer to Langley, but that doesn't seem to bother him.

“Any plan on writing him back?”

“Nope,” Shannen shakes his head again, slowly.

“Are we gonna let him stew in his own juice?” 

“Yup,” Shannen nods, now looking at the painting too. 

“Ah!” Langley sighs, happily. “Such good boys we are!”

That's when the office door finally opens and Mrs. Flowerbloom comes out, wrapped in a flourishing of white veils and what look like velvet shower curtains. “Boys, please, come in. I'm almost ready.”

Shannen snorts as he stands up. “It was about time! It feels like I've been waiting here for years!”

“It might actually be true,” Mrs. Flowerbloom gestures vaguely. “I had to mess with time a little bit to get the spell to work.”

“What?” Shannen squeaks.

“What?” She says, smiling sweetly. Then, she stops to look at the painting. “Did you change this?”

Langley walks swiftly past her and he's inside the office before she can look at him a moment longer. “No, ma'am. Though, if I may, it's truly an outstanding piece of art.”

“It looks different,” she says, pensively as she follows them back inside the office. “I remembered it way less violent.”

“Oh, but that's the whole point, isn't it?” Langley says, easing himself onto her chair behind the desk. “Every day we're surrounded by violence and we grow so accustomed to it that we don't recognize it for what it is, until we really look at it and we saw that it really is... well, violent.”

The headmistress doesn't look very convinced. “I don't know, Langley,” she says, looking warily at him. “It's just that every time you're around, things have the tendency to change, a lot of people get confused and periods are late.”

Langley clears his throat. “I would like to deny the latter. I'm a faithful bigamist now,” he says, almost proudly. “Although I don't know if such a thing can be considered grammatically correct or if it's a contradiction in terms.”

Millicent Flowerbloom looks at the young man in front of her, trying to read his face as best as she can. Langley is not an easy creature to read, and on top of that she's not very good at reading people, but how could such a face be that of a liar? Langley is looking at her with a peaceful expression, his lips curling in the sweetest smile. Besides, expecting him to be a liar, a trickster and generally a deceptive individual just because he's part vampire would be racist, and she finds racism repulsive. No, he must be telling the truth. Actually, she's so suddenly sure of it that she nods to herself with conviction. In the few moments that follow she just stares vaguely into nothing with a dumb smile on her lips.

Shannen sighs, knowing exactly what just happened here. “She's not totally right in the head to begin with. You're not helping her.”

“I didn't do anything, my love.”

“It's incredible how many things you manage _not to do_ every day,” Shannen snorts. “And don't call me that.”

“As you wish, precious.”

Shannen would like to scream at him in frustration, but Mrs. Flowerbloom sits down on her desk with a dreamy sigh. “Can you do something? Just... un-vampireze her.”

Langley frowns, concerned. “That's not even a word, honey.”

Shannen growls, closing his eyes and counting to three – he can never go farther than that – before snapping. “Do something!”

Langley only has to snap his fingers in front of her eyes and the headmistress just resumes talking, as if she had never stopped. “So, the spell is ready and you can leave as soon as you gather you things.”

“We don't have anything,” Shannen says. They both just dropped everything and came here, and certainly can't bother to pack now. “We can go.”

Mrs. Flowerbloom looks at them curiously, but then she nods. “All right. Do you both know what is expected of you?”

Shannen growls again. “We don't need lessons on Celes.”

“What my partner means, Mrs. Flowerbloom, is that Celes is the third part of our relationship and we know each other intimately enough to know the better way to deal with this situation. We always act with the best interest of each other in mind,” Langley tries to explain the animal sounds Shannen is still making. “As a matter of fact, we've been apart from Celes for months, and we're very much longing to be with him at this point, especially after what happened.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” Shannen bursts out, slamming his open hand on the woman's desk. “Just shoot us there, or whatever it is that you do to move people around the lands. I know how to fucking deal with my fucking boyfriend better than you!”

Langley can't help but smile. This must be the first time he actually _hears_ Shannen say that word referring to one of them. It's sweet and incredibly endearing. Mrs. Flowerbloom clears her throat. “I meant no offense, Shannen,” she says, apologetically. 

“We're sure you didn't,” Langley agrees, nodding as he places his hand over Shannen's mouth to shut him up. “Now, shall we proceed?”

*

Nobody knows exactly how traveling between the lands works, since it's a skill only the Seer and his blood relatives have. What Langley knows is that one moment he was in Mrs. Flowerbloom's office and now he's looking at the seemingly endless shores of Tanit, over which Shannen is profusely throwing up. Not even the gentle sound of the ocean lapping at the land can cover the ominous sounds he's making. So unromantic!

“Don't worry, love. You'll get used to it. I would be distressed for days myself the first few times I was moved back and forth from Aimatopolis, but it gets better with time,” he explains, soothingly. “Do you want me to hold back your hair?”

“I swear, Lang, if you touch me, I'm gonna bite your fingers off.”

Langley raises both his hands, as Shannen heaves again, harder than before. “Message received. I'll be respectfully standing here, ready to intervene if you so require.”

“I won't require it! Thank you very much!” Shannen snaps, cleaning his mouth with his arm. Judging by the disgusted face he makes at the mess on the ground, you would almost say he wasn't the one doing it. “Besides, this is not my first time.”

“Of course not, my candy cane. Sadly enough, it wasn't me who popped your cherry and this is something I will deeply regret for the rest of my life.”

Shannen frowns. “What are you even saying!” He screams. “I was talking about space-travel, or whatever this is! How can you even be a functioning human being when all you can think of is sex?!”

“Sex can be a powerful thought.”

“It's the only one you have!”

Langley smiles. “Am I not the most awesome person you've ever met?”

Shannen looks at him in shock. “No!”

Langley waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, pumpkin, I love you too,” he says as he clearly has a completely different conversation with him in his head. What Shannen really regrets is that he was the one telling him to put himself together. He takes a mental note: moping Langley is way more bearable than normal Langley. “Now, judging by how small the palace looks from here, Mrs. Flowerbloom must have miscalculated our landing coordinate.”

“Color me shocked! Is there something she _can actually_ do right?”

“My, my, don't be mean to the poor lady,” Langley says, taking off his long black coat, which looks so out of place here, and throwing it over his arm as he prepares to walk. “I don't think somebody is going to pick us up, today. Come on, it looks like a long walk.”

Shannen grumbles – not because they have to walk, but because it means they'll have to wait some more to see Celes – but he starts to walk. It takes them at least forty minutes to reach the palace, and the closer they get, the more clear it is the damage to it. A whole wing doesn't exist anymore. The building looks maimed, like a giant without an arm.

“Good Heavens,” Langley whispers, looking up at what's left of the roof. Every now and then a shingle falls off, crashing on the ground. The whole building has been boxed off, and there are people everywhere still digging out and securing parts that risk to come down.

“What the fuck happened here?” Shannen says. He can't even recognize what part of the palace it was. The news they received were serious, but this is way worse than what he had imagined.

“Three explosions. The rescue team says the bombs were probably in the basement, but we're not sure yet.” They both turn around to see Vesper, Manila's partner, coming towards them. “Welcome, boys. I'm sorry that you have to walk here. We sensed your arrival, but we don't have a carriage available right now.”

“It's fine, we understand,” Langley nods. “Is he okay?”

“Physically, yes. Luckily, he wasn't close to the explosions,” Vesper says. “But other than that... He doesn't leave his mother's side.”

Shannen is sorry for Manila, and he's obviously worried for her, but his main concern is Celes. “Can we see him now?”

Vesper nods. “He's waiting for you. Follow me.”

They have been here before several times, but the place is unrecognizable. They can only follow Vesper, who leads them among the debris for a while. Someone stops to look at them passing by, but most of the people just keep working. Vesper brings them to a room in the healthy wing of the building, where everything is eerily silent. She just peeks inside and says, “They're here.”

She moves aside to make room for them, but they just take one step inside the darkness of the room. Everything seems still in here, as if time itself had stopped to give Manila time to reach it. Celes detached himself from the bed, and it's a hard, painful gesture for him; when he does, tho, he runs towards them and then throws himself in Langley's arms as if, having let go of one anchor, he needed a new one. Langley wraps him in a hug, hiding him from view. Shannen reaches out and strokes his head, making his presence known, showing affection in the only way he can.

“I can't say what it means to me to have you here,” Celes sighs in relief, his face pressed against Langley's chest. And Langley would like to tell him that everything's okay now, that they are here and they can protect him or fight with him, whatever he needs.

But he doesn't know that. “Troubles, I'm afraid,” he says, sadly; because he could lie to anybody, but not to him. Never him. And they will surely try to protect him, and fight, and whatever he'll need, but the truth is he can't promise him anything more than that.


End file.
